


Young Colt

by AngelGal



Series: Ponyboy Centric [1]
Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Character Study, Crossover, Curly is dumb but he's trying, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Greasers, Growing Up, Guardianship, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston Live, Kinda, Light Angst, Love Triangles, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Not Canon Compliant, Orphans, Pre-Canon, Puberty, Sexual Confusion, Slow Burn, Social Worker, Socs, Sports, Track and Field, What-If, Wordy, androgynous Ponyboy Curtis, curtis parents are dead still lol, field and track, ponyboy centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelGal/pseuds/AngelGal
Summary: Ponyboy turned 14 the summer before freshman year, and soon he'll learn how hard life can truly be. Not only that, but puberty is starting to hit him in different ways than it did his tuff brothers.Battling teenage drama, harassment he never knew he'd have to deal with, and trying to find a place in his odd-ball family, will he be able to make it out of high school in one piece?(I'm still writing this I'm just on hiatus lmaoo)
Relationships: Bryon Douglas/Angela Shepard, Darrel Curtis & Ponyboy Curtis, Darrel Curtis & Ponyboy Curtis & Sodapop Curtis, Johnny Cade & Ponyboy Curtis, Ponyboy Curtis & Sodapop Curtis, Ponyboy Curtis & Two-Bit Mathews, Ponyboy Curtis/Curly Shepard, Ponyboy Curtis/Original Male Character(s), Ponyboy Curtis/Two-Bit Mathews
Series: Ponyboy Centric [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573117
Comments: 45
Kudos: 108





	1. Tuff Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know who needs to hear it, but S. E. Hinton has written numerous other books that are just as good and are probably in your schools' library, please give them a read they're literally so good. 
> 
> I recommend That was Then, This Is Now (has a movie and features the shepherds and mentions ponyboy I think), Rumble Fish (one of my favorites and little bit on the tuff side), Tex (has a movie and also one of my favorites, it's so cute), Taming the Star Runner (one of my favorites and funny), and also a book about two cousins and a bartender called Some of Tims Stories. I haven't read that one yet but I read the preview online of the first couple pages and it looked sad lol.
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Pony, hit it back to the bed and shut off the sun, will you,” Sodas’ droopy lisp drawled out as he laid a sleepy bundled up ball in their shared bed, “ya know what time it is kiddo?” Pony smiled to himself, his brother bothered by the open window letting in the morning sun. He ignored him, Sodapop would just pass out again within a minute and go back to dreaming anyway.

Ponyboy Curtis dreams, even when he’s awake. Head always in a book, eyes glazed and mind wandering off. He’d just been born that way. Before his father died, he was always laughing about how their youngest Curtis would grow up and with his smarts be the first man to “take an airplane to the moon” (before their father could later learn about spacecrafts), since his head was always up in space anyways. His mother thought it was cute. “At least one of you boys use their mind” She would joke. 

Pony sighs into his drawing of a memory he had out in the country on a trip when he was little. His parents were always supportive of him. None of their boys could ever do wrong. Even if they didn't have money all the time, they always had each other, and that was enough. 

It was early in the morning on a Sunday. A faint nightmare of a train had woken him up. Covered in sweat and Sodapops arm around his neck, he had slowly peeled himself away and decided to draw in the light of dawn as his brother had stirred. Tomorrow, he would start school, a high school freshman. 

Soda had dropped out, and even the thought made his heart hurt. He was smart and it would never make any sense to him. Though a minor himself, he decided very stubbornly that he’d be pulling his own weight and help provide for the family, happily giving up both a diploma and three-quarters of a check every other week to their guardian. 

Regardless, it still boggled his mind. He and Soda were as thick as thieves, his second oldest brother being the only one he could ever really open up to and be himself with. They would try and tell everyone they were twins when they were young boys, but their eyes and Ponys’ smaller frame always gave it away. 

Darry was starting his second job this week, he too had dropped his college scholarship to take responsibility for his younger brothers, working as hard as he could to be able to provide. Maybe that was why Soda dropped out and started working full time with Steve, to make things easier for their tired brother instead of being the problem like Pony felt he was. Pony was half scared Darry would just place them in a boys home at first, but as he thought about how tight Soda had held him and high tight Darrys fist was on Sodas' shoulder when they went to their parents’ casket viewings, he wasn’t so worried anymore.

Deep down he knew his eldest brother loved him, it was just hard to see it sometimes. He wished he didn’t, just to be able to justify his anger and confusion with his relationship with his eldest brother. To even be able to understand him an ounce more.

“Pony,” Sodapop mumbled. He shifted slightly in their bed and rested his head against his propped up arm so he could look sleepily at his younger brother. Pony shrugged away from the desk and pulled his drawing with him as he crawled on top of the sheets next to Soda, melting into his warmth as loving arms wrapped around him. “What's going on in that small head of yous’, kid brother?” Soda chided sleepily. 

“My heads not small…” Pony mumbled but shifted slightly to look into sodas sleep-drowsed eyes and sighed like a toddler. “Nothin, Soda. Just daydreamin is all. Look,” He said as he shifted back a little to pull up his picture and straighten it out for Soda to see. He smiled as his brothers' eyes sparkled slightly and gave his flashy, one-of-a-kind, signature ‘Sodapop Smile’. 

“Gosh, woulda' thought I be related to aye pi-ca-sso!”, Soda exclaimed in a hushed shout, bringing Pony in closer in a breath snatching snuggle fight. Ponyboy rolled his eyes, both at the compliment and Soda’s horrible grammar, trying to escape Soda’s death grip. 

He didn’t get back out till a half-hour of struggling and another half hour of napping later. 

By noon, all the diners and burger joints were filled with people fresh out of church getting a bite to eat, making Ponys’ stomach growl. He walked down the Tulsa strip with his drawing from this morning of a pick-up truck sitting stoically in a field of wheatgrass, poking out folded in his back pocket. He felt lost in his own town sometimes. Just wandering about alone as his brothers worked hard for him. His friends were still all probably passed out wherever they were from the previous Saturday night after getting all their jollies, none of them being found sleeping this morning on their couch like they sometimes did. 

He kicked a stray bottle cap out from his path and against a fruit stand as a grocer glared at him and muttered under his breath, Pony paying no mind to it as he was pulled from his thoughts. 

“Well, look-it here, a lone hood” A raspy voice drawled out from behind him. Ponys stomach dropped as he jumped from his skin. He was about ready to run when he heard a laugh too familiar to be any scared of it. He turned around and punched Two-Bits slouched shoulders as he roared laughing, the younger grease walking away in a huff as his friend trailed behind. 

“Hey, kid, slow down, tryna live up to yer’ name and gallop away?” Two-Bit said with breathless laughter. When pony didn’t respond, Two-Bit sobered up at walked alongside him, bumping him with his shoulder. “What’s with you, kid? Ya watch too much Chaplin an’ become a mute?” he said, though his words sobered this time. 

The sun began to grow brighter and the air thicker with heat. Families and friends walking around the storefronts and kids playing wall ball in wide alleyways until shopkeepers ran them off. It truly did feel like the last day of summer before fall kicked in and began the new school year. 

Pony looked at him with a quick side-eye, huffing slightly. “It’s nothin’ Two-Bit, just thinking too much is all.”

Two-Bit bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about the last several months of tragedy for the Curtis brothers, his worries mostly with the youngest. When His own father had run out on his family, it had seemed like the world couldn’t be more unfair. He couldn’t even imagine what it's like to lose two perfectly good parents all at once all while starting a new chapter in boy-hood. 

“What’re you doin’ walkin around by your lonesome anyhow, kid?” Two-Bit said as he pulled a brown bag from under his jean jacket and took a sip of whatever was hidden in there. Golly, Ponyboy thought, not even a Sunday morning could stop a drunkard. “You know it's grease huntin’ season around these parts,'' he finished, then burped aloud. 

“I’m not a kid,” He muttered than cocked a look at his buddy, waving his hand towards him, “And what about ya? This is holy Catholic hour, all drunks are supposed to be passed out at Bucks or the park ditches,” he smiled. They turned a corner and Two-Bit bent over with laughter. The smell of beer splashed around as liquid spilled with his jerky movements. 

“When you got a mom like mine, even a drunk gets forced into attendance, only to be kicked out of the Sunday sermon for devilish behavior, ya know what I mean, kid?” Pony chuckled. He was sure Ms. Mathews was off somewhere with the younger Mathews children, cursing up a storm about her unruly and terribly hood son. 

Pony stopped walking and unfolded the half-empty pack of cigarettes from the sleeve of his t-shirt, offering one than rolling the pack back into his sleeve as Two-Bit waved away the offering. Pony leaned against a wide brick wall as he looked at the busy intersection, Two-Bit harassing a couple of girls walking by. 

He rolled his eyes and smoked away, the older greaser looking back to his younger friend. “Ya joined track, right kid? Yer lookin tuff.” Keith didn’t think that was the most accurate word to describe his friend, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Maybe it was just plane old puberty or the events the kid has suffered lately but Ponyboy was starting to look… different. 

Ponys’ navy shirt was a little baggy since it was most likely a hand-me-down from Sodapop, but tucked in with rolled sleeves it wasn’t hard to see his lean figure though a little on the smaller side. Lithe but fit. Two-Bit could almost chalk it up to the young grease being an airhead and just naturally having a dreamy look to him. His jeans did him good too, showing off thin legs a small waist and rather fit backside. Pony was always the sporty type too, always excelling in gym and later on scouted for highschool junior varsity track and field. While looking ambiguously attractive, he still obviously looked youthful and innocent, making any honorless schmuck want to ruin him. 

The rusty haired greaser looked away with red ears, feeling slight shame like he was thinking of his buddy's kid sister or something. Pony didn’t notice as he took another drag. 

“Yeah, gonna have to start late though, with- ya know,” Pony dragged on, gesturing to nothing and subconsciously posing a little tougher as to guard up his feelings. It didn’t go unnoticed and the older grease sighed a little. “Practice started in May, but since Paul gave a good word, I’m good to start this month.” 

Two-bit hummed and took another swig. Pony looked so young but spoke as any old man would. Always speaking grown through youthful lips. 

“Anyway,” Pony sighed. Two-Bit realized that was probably the most he’s heard Pony talk in a while. When Pony was a little boy he would ramble on and on, asking all the questions a kid could think to ask about a world he didn’t understand yet. Now he was more reserved, his questions now stuck in his head with no hope for any answers. “I’m starving, let's stop by the construction site and see if Dar can spare some cash?”, he suggested.

“Gosh, kid, now I know yer hungry, willin’ to ask Superman for dough.” Two-Bit smacked his back as he pushed himself from the wall and squeezed his shoulder as they walked off, “Don’t worry about it, stallion, I got ya. Let's go to the queen!” Pony smiled and laughed at his friend, muttering a soft thank you as they made a turn towards Dairy Queen together.

Pony kicked gravel as they walked, smirking at Two-Bits jokes at the expense of any unfortunate soul walking past them. He felt the hair on his neck stand as a deep blue mustang drove away from the DQ right as they approached the parking lot right past them, yelling slurs and throwing their balled up wrappers and empty cups at the two boys. Pony ignored them and tried to walk faster while Two-Bit threw whatever was left in his bottle and an empty beer can he found on the ground at the- freshly washed and detailed, it seemed- car and yelled back.

Pony rolled his eyes. They deserved it, but he wished he would ignore them so that they could hurry up and get him fed. Nervously, he looked up at the richer boys and rubbed his growling stomach. 

The voices became more aggressive as they burned asphalt to reverse their car and emergency braked right in front of their path. Four boys in total climbing out of the car. Two bit’s face grew darker as he handed the kid the bag holding his now empty bottle, nodding towards the street post next to them. Pony guessed he was referencing to breaking the bottle against it if things turned violent. Pony would be in a boys home faster than he could blink if he actually did anything like that though, but neither were thinking about that. 

Ponyboy recognized three of the boys as they stalked in front of the two greasers. 

The blonde was Bob Seldon, that guy was always hanging around their hood with his posse behind the wheel of expensive cars looking for trouble. He seemed to be the leader of their deranged pack. Emotionless besides the hate and disgust in his eyes. The taller but thinner brown-haired soc was Randy Adderson, he seemed real close with Bob from what Pony could see. The third he didn't know the name of, maybe something like ‘Eric’ if he had to guess, but he’s seen his at the DX where Sodapop works and he was always nice enough if at least civil with Soda, so maybe he was the owners' son. The fourth soc was a redhead boy with his letterman jacket and a dumb-jock look on his face. A real brawn-with-no-brains looking kind of boy.

“I know you probably can’t read, grease, but there's a sign that says no littering, so trash like you better get while the gettings good,” Bob snarked, slowly waving around his tightly fisted hand, his many rings catching the sun's glare. Pony thought about what happened with Johnny not too long ago and narrowed his bright green eyes, clutching the bag holding the bottle in his hand. 

“Funny, they have a sign for fairies loitering around places they shouldn't too?”Two-Bit drawled, heavy on his ‘T’s. Pony could see him reaching for the switch-blade stashed in his back pocket, looking around and relieved to see the busyness of this part of town was enough to distract people away from their private scuffle. 

The red head scoffed and spit at Two-Bits chucks. “Says the one walking around with some fruity lookin pretty-boy,” he blurted, and Pony could tell he was rethinking his words but chose to stick with them and glare at the two of them in disgust. The little Curtis did a double-take at the socs’ words. Pretty boy? What about him was pretty? He thought of Sodapop and, yeah, a boy could be pretty he guessed. For the millionth time today, he rolled his eyes. He’s thinking too much again. 

Two-Bit was gonna throw in another insult when the blonde soc, Bob, nudged the brown-haired soc, Randy, and made him laugh “He is pretty, ain't he.” He smirked. It made Pony’s skin crawl. He could feel a sick joke rising up, and he didn’t want to stick around for it. “You sure that’s not an untamed dame hiding in those hood rags?”

Pony lowered the bottle and pulled on Two-Bits jacket, “Common, forget these socs’, I’m hungry Two-” He said quietly, eyes pleading though he tried his best to look tough and furrowed his brows, lips pursing subconsciously. It was pathetic to walk away from a fight, but he couldn’t help it and was more than willing to look like a fool if it meant walking away from whatever that was.

“Yeah, grease, the lady's’ hungry, why don't we feed her?” Bob laughed, pulling out a flask from his back pocket and quickly twisting off the cap. They swiftly got closer and managed to pull Ponyboys elbow from behind the older greaser and splash alcohol on his face, making him flutter his lashes and gasp in shock, instantly trying to pull away. 

The socs’ felt something in their guts shiver at the sound of the greaser gasping, stunning them enough for Pony to be able to pull himself away and hide beside Two-Bit, his eyes watering and his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Two-Bit shoved Bob hard by his chest, throwing him back against his car and speedily flipped out him balisong pocket knife threateningly, “You fucker- don’t lay yer hands on the kid ever! You hear me?! Or I’ll gut ya like a fish!” He hollered, enraged. 

That had seemed to catch the attention of a passing cop and Pony paled. “Hey, what’s going on over here?” The officer shouted. The four socialites reclined themselves and huffed. “This isn’t over, trash,” Bob said to them both, but his eyes made it seem like a message more directed to Pony than Two-Bit, and that didn’t fail to make both of them uneasy. He suddenly remembered the chance of having to see them at school the next day and shivered. 

The cop let them go after a few accusing questions but no real trouble was made, and they went on with their business. They sat at a table by the door in awkward silence as Pony picked at his barbeque burger, chewing slowly. 

Two-Bit sighed. “How blue-balled does a guy have ta’ be to make sick jokes like that bout some kid, right Pony?” he tried to joke but it fell on skeptical ears. Pony looked up at him through his dark lashes and huffed, setting down his burger. 

“I don’t feel so hot about tomorrow,” Pony started. It surprised Two-Bit, like pony was going to finally open up and share his feelings after bottling them up for these past several months. Not wanting to overreact and let the kid speak, he sat up and took a swig of his cola. “Like what happened back there was a premonition or somethin’, Two.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, been doing the same year for a while now and let me tell you, I only do it cause I like it so much,” He laughed, hoping the joke would calm the kids’ nerves. Ponyboy just shrugged and started pulling apart what was left of his burger, choosing to nibble at the bun dripping with sauce. 

“It’s not just that…” and his face flushed slightly. Two-Bit gulped. “I…”, He let his food fall onto it’s laid out wrapper and brought his hand to his mouth, licked the sauce off his fingers with a pink tongue. A few hoods leaning on their souped-up rods noticed and all looked away flustered and confused, gesturing to each other. They almost approached but Two-Bits glare stopped them from making their way over.

Pony burped and wiped his hand on his jeans. “I feel, different, ya savvy?” It sounded weird coming from him, a word probably learned from one of the older boys. Maybe it was weird because it wasn’t a word a girl would say, Two-Bit thought quickly than waved it off, thinking himself a fool.

“Is that a boy or girl?” Two-bit heard a cute heeled girl gossip to two other dolls, the anxiety in his gut scratching it’s way up. He didn’t know if they were talking about Pony, but he wasn’t wanting to be taking chances. He heaved to himself, ‘this kid of ours always causin’ trouble’, he thought, as he was about to stand to leave. 

“Two, you listen’n?” Pony said as he leaned forward and clutched Two-Bits sleeve, shaking it a little to get his attention, then sat straight and looked off. “Anyway, let’s beat it.” He sighed tiredly. 

“Read my mind, kid,” the taller greaser chirped, happy to leave. 

He hummed happily knowing his stomach was full. “Thank you,” he said as an afterthought while he stood, looking up to his buddy. Keith smiled and grabbed the back of Pony’s neck affectionately as they walked. 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.”

Two-Bit and Pony stopped by a Safeway to grab a 12-pack while Pony looked at the book rack displayed by the window. He closed the book he was looking at as the older greaser waved him over and out the grocery store. “What were you lookin at Pony? The monthly Playboy?” He teased. 

“No, jerk... Gone With The Wind- a book”, Pony said as if Two-Bit wouldn’t know any form of literature outside of the advice columns in nude magazines, “I wanna read it one day… or watch it, they’re gonna show a movie like it downtown next month.”

Two-Bit stopped listening as he saw a group of pretty girls walked by and he couldn’t resist making not so subtle obscene comments at them. “Yeah, yeah, have the puppy get it for you.” Johnny was always getting the gang little things here and there out of consideration without having the need to ask him. He was always listening and paying attention even if people thought he wasn’t, which he usually showed in appreciative ways towards the people who saved him from living in a loveless world. 

Like a loyal dog for its just as loyal owners. 

The youngest Curtis stepped out of the shower and quickly slipped on the underwear he had left by the sink, knowing privacy was scarce in his house. He padded out, pushing the already open door wider and toweled off his hair. 

Dally and Johnny were playing a card game. Dally had been laying low at the Curtis’ house much to the stress of Darry since a warrant was out for his arrest for robbing a magazine shop, and Johnny had been sticking to him like glue. The sentence would only be a few months, it would be easier to just do the time, but Dally was complicated like that. Wanting to hide away in the same “smallest town on earth” they were looking for him at just to see how long it took them.

Steve and Soda were in the front, Steve practicing his jumps and flips on their neighbors scrap-yard truck while soda laughed wildly, bouncing with anticipation to try himself- if Darry wouldn't have killed him for being so reckless, though Darry had been the one to teach Steve his gymnastic-like flips and jumps in the first place. 

He jumped onto the couch half expecting to see Two-Bit having a beer for dinner, but then remembered him saying something about babysitting before he went to rinse off. 

Pony pulled his skivvies down from where they scrunched up, his towel now on his shoulders as he stood up after a few minutes of watching TV, walking through the living room to the kitchen looking for anything not dyed a weird color and hopefully something chocolate flavored. 

The boys were always walking around not thinking too hard about having to cover up, especially now that Mrs. Curtis wasn’t there anymore to be disrespected by numerous boys she still considered her extended family flashing their manhoods. Mr. Curtis would playfully tussle and throw down with them every once in a while for it, though, when he was alive just to show them who the man of the house was. 

Johnny muttered a greeting to Pone while keeping his eyes on his deck, Dally only complaining about him stealing all the hot water. Soda and Steve slam through the door laughing and hollering their way inside, Steve smacking Johnny's back and asked to be dealt in, Soda catching Pony’s appearance and giving out a loud whistle. All the boys looked up besides Dallas, who was too busy shuffling and taking a final drag of his roach. 

“Nice threads, Pony, but what are you doin’ walking aroun’ like that, tryna give Darry a heart attack?” The boys laughed and Pony just glared at his brother, shoving steve as he passed him, Steve grabbing his wrist and pulling him back roughly. 

“Why don’t you go put some clothes on, runt? Didn’t Super-Dope almost have your hide the last time you walked around in your whities?” Steve snarled through jagged teeth as the younger grease yanked his hand back. He shifted his stance and put his hand on his hip with an attitude of a fussy child. 

“Yeah and I don’t know what for!”, Ponyboy said with an edge of annoyance in his voice. “You all come out our shower walkin aroun’ in the same suit ya'll were born with but when I do it he don’t say none!” His towel fell off his shoulders as he waved his arms around trying to make his point, Dally finally looking up and almost having a heart attack if the paleness of his face was anything to go by. 

The tow-headed greaser almost doubled over, “Jesus kid, you auditioning for one of Bucks call girls or something!?”, The shuffled deck now scattered over the floor as he got up and huffed out the back door, “Can’t believe this… someone get a nun to dress him or somethin, jeez-”, Dallas rambled off on his way out, but he probably didn’t even care. He just loved to give the kid a hard time.

Pony stood frozen and ironically so red-faced he felt like he was going to boil over. “What's the deal?” Pony yelled, a just woken up and very angry looking Darry finally stomping in to see what all the noise was about. 

“Cut the gas, boys, the honorables here got work tomorrow morn’ and Pony starts sc- Pony!” Darry rants, throwing his hands up as if to say ‘what in the hell!’ and just stares at his youngest brother offendedly. “Trynna attract the dogs?” He said sarcastically. 

With it being a house run by boys and all, they were always beating into each other; roughhousing, playful banter, and even the occasional toughing it out just to settle a fight. But Pony couldn’t help but feel attacked for something that didn’t use to matter not even a few months ago. 

“You don’t have to lay on him so rough Darry, can’t a guy walk around here without gettin’ a whipping?” Soda said as he threw a stray shirt with Mickey's face on it for Pony to catch. He still looked annoyed but threw on the shirt and stood taller as Sada stood by him. Darry seemed to be too tired to deal with it, happy Pony at least had his chest covered and walked back to his room, muttering under his breathe something about unruly kids. 

The boys roughhoused a little longer till Johnny joined Dallas outside for a bedtime smoke and Steve headed back home, Soda walking him out only after making sure Pony ate and then headed to their rooms to get ready for bed themselves. 

Pony was huffing to himself still. Just because he wasn’t much of a talker doesn’t mean he’s not a huge pouter. “Come on, baby, the guys didn’t mean to rattle your cage like that, they just-” Soda began as he kicked off his jeans and slid into their sheets. It was too hot for their comforter, especially when they become entangled by morning, sweaty from all the physical contact.

Neither ever paid mind though. While Darry showed his support as the eldest brother through becoming a guardian and provider, Soda showed his support after their parents passing by becoming the emotional support; back rubs, hugs, cuddling, affectionate kisses on cheeks and foreheads, long reassuring end of the night talks, being the middleman, just name it. Pony didn’t know what role he had in all of this and it made him feel both lost and angry to not have a place in his own family anymore besides being the baby. 

“Why’s Darry always so frosted with me? I mean, all of you guys could do the same as me and I’ll always get the stick for it. He hates me I just know it.” He interrupted, throwing the shirt he was made to put on to the ground and stomped his foot. Soda gave him a look and Pony suddenly became self-conscious about waking Darry or maybe Johnny or Dallas who took to their couch. “I’m just tired of it Soda… what makes me so different?” 

The middle Curtis boy watched his little brother sit at the end of the bed with his back facing him, hunched in thought and arms crossed and hands tucked under each armpit. Soda sat up and reached over, grabbing Ponys biceps and tossing them both back as if he was weightless, causing both of them to be lying down with Pony over the sheets and struggling in Sodapops bear hug. He snuggled his face into his younger brothers neck and shoulder, smiling to himself. 

“Darry loves us two more’n anythin’ else. I know it doesn’t feel like it at some times with all that hollerin he does at ya, but he does.” Pony stopped struggling as his elder brother began, “... and I need ta tell ya somethin Pony, but don't get cross with me ya hear?” He said, tucking a loose strand of hair away from his baby's face as he continued to hold him from behind. 

He continued when Pony muttered out a small ‘kay’, “You.. you’re…” He absently rubbed his thumb against Pony’s bare shoulder and tried to word himself right, something he was never really good at when it exposed his own worries. “We’re- I’m worried about how yer… developin’. Yer startin’ to look an awful lot more… delicate? Like somethin’ anyone could snatch up?”, he said, possibly self-reflecting his overprotective brotherly worries 

“Is that what you all think?” Pony said, a little struck with confusion. 

Soda shook his head, “Not that I know of. Haven’ really talked about it with the others. Jus somethin’ I been feelin.”

Pony stayed quiet after that and Sodas’ stomach dropped a little, wishing he had kept it to himself. He kissed his kid brother's head and let him so he could get more comfortable on the bed and sleep. “I didn’t mean none by it, Pony, forget I ever said anythin’.”, He waved off, feeling as Pony swiveled around and leaned over Soda’s shoulder. 

Soda closed his eyes but hummed to let Pony know he was listening. 

“Soda… do I…” He rested his chin on his draped arm over Soda, “Do I look like a doll? Is that what ya mean?” He thought about the incident with the socs at the DQ and the conversations he overheard around him that he previously hadn’t given a second thought, things snapping into place. His brain was wired like that, though he could be slow and dense at times, but his common sense always shined through and pulled together scattered clues to solve any puzzle. 

Soda opened his eyes and for once he looked like he was actually deep in thought. He knew what he wanted to say but not what he should, so he just closed his eyes again and sighed, turning and pushing Pony slightly so that he could hug his brother after reaching to turn off their lamp. “I don’t know,” He said in the dark, letting the sound of the end of summer midnight critters fill the silence. 

“I love you, kiddo.”

Pony moved under the covers and shuffled closer to Soda, closing his eyes and relaxing though his mind was running a mile a minute. 

He was different, and now he knew it, but he didn’t ever want to be the odd one out, not with his own family. He felt a lump in his throat. He wished his mom and pop were there to help guide him. He felt so frustrated, not able to control his own body now on top of everything else. Changes were happening both in his life and within himself, and the sad part was that he didn’t know how much more he could take. A cynical part of himself told him he’d soon find out, with how things have been going. 

‘Tough luck I have’, he thought before finally nodding off.


	2. The Real Wild Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah-haha, what if I just, update a month late even with a set deadline like an asshole- just kidding exe) ...unless? 
> 
> I'm sorry I took so long for the second chapter lmao my life got crazy out of nowhere- but anyways, I worked hard on making sure it was perfect, so I hope you enjoy it. It is kind of dramatic but like what's the point of fiction if it isn't hella extra lmao. 
> 
> Also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes I one hundred percent depended on Grammarly and auto-correct to make my writing readable lmao, I'm not smart enough to catch my own mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for everyone who commented and left kudos!

Curlys’ birth name was Andrew C. Shepherd. 

Not a lot of people knew that since he had been called Curly for as long as he could remember. He liked it that way too- ‘Andrew’ never really fit him. He didn’t really know why everyone got to calling him Curly to the point where even his own family forgot his real name at times, but he’ll never forget how he got the name.

He had first met Ponyboy, the youngest Curtis brother had snot running down his blushed red nose with a busted lip. He was crying so loud it made Curly feel like he was dealing with a toddler. They were both in the third grade together, then.

The youngest Shepherd had known who he was, of course, everyone at least knew the two older Curtis brothers. They were notorious for getting into all sorts of trouble. But Ponyboy was different; he was the baby, even for the other greasers in their hood who took it upon themselves to look out for one another. 

Curly always tried hard to be one of the older boys, always being Tim’s shadow and worshiping his older brother like a god- and if he thought hard enough maybe he’d realize it was because Tim was his only role model for being a man and cared a great deal on what he thought of him, always seeking approval. 

But Ponyboy was an original, never really acting like a miniature version of either of his brothers; not too goofy and wild but extremely charming and enduring like Sodapop or a dangerous bad boy with the face of an angel but the eyes of a demon like Darryl. Though he looked a lot like his older brother Sodapop at times, Curly knew better. Sodapop was a rambunctious kid, dancing brown eyes, dark dirty blonde hair just as unruly as he was.

Ponyboy was a different kind of youthful. His hair was a lighter color than almost anyone he knew, excluding the blondies his father was always chasing. His eyes were a cold green that always looked thoughtful with various emotions constantly flashing through like a passing train- such big and curious eyes. He was always curious. He liked that he knew that about him, even if he’d never really talked to the other boy all that much. 

Standing above him at that moment, a little and scared sobbing Ponyboy sitting at his feet, he felt a big urge to hurt whatever it was that made him cry the way he had. 

Curly had met Ponyboy on the playground. A busted lip, snot dripping down his nose, bawling his eyes out. Not a single tuff thing about him. 

He held his hand out for Ponyboy to grab, but instead of using it to pull himself up, his crying seemed to pause. He held his hand with a sweaty palm. It was gross but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The pudgy hand reached for his face and he bent down more so that he could reach him. 

“Curly.” He stared in wonder as he brushed through his wild hair. He would get teased about it sometimes and because of that would always get mad or defensive when people pointed it out, but for some reason, he knew Ponyboy wasn’t trying to tease him. He just seemed transfixed with it. His cheeks grew warm and he looked away. 

After his initial wave of anger, and getting him to a teacher to get him to the nurse, and holding his smaller pudgy hand in his own all the way back to class since recess had ended a while ago- he went home and thought about something other than how much he hated his parents and school or what his next plan for trouble would be. 

He thought about wet greenish-gray eyes and a small soft hand. As his eyes involuntarily fell shut he could feel a small grin on his face. The light in his room had still been on. 

“Time for bed, Andrew,” His mother said as she turned off his light, bouncing a fussy Angela on her hip. Curly shot up, thinking about what he wanted to say for a second before speaking up. 

“No. I don’ like Andrew. Curly. It’s tuff.” He stated in his best Tim impersonation. That was what he wanted to be nicknamed- all the cool boys in his neighborhood had nicknames. His mother huffed, but seemed to agree that it suited him well- he had been the only child to get her wild curly hair after all. He laid back down, closing his eyes once more and letting his mind wander. 

Ponyboy Curtis’ hand had been so small. 

Steve Randle walked into the Curtis Brothers’ house with a hop in his step, a crooked wide-toothed grin glued to his face. 

He ignored the boys sprawled around the living room in favor of the plate stacked with eggs and chocolate cake set aside for him. Kicking away Two-Bits leg as he moved around him to sit on the floor by Soda’s feet; who only had a wife-beater and his work jeans on. 

“Why, look at this goof, what's with all this grinnin’ business, Steve-O?” Two-Bit said as he ruffled all of Steve’s perfectly greased hair. Steve’s smile fell for a grimace as he shoved the redheads’ hand away from his complicated swirls of shiny hair. 

Soda tried stealing a bite of chocolate cake with his own fork when Steve quickly slides his plate out of reach, then on second thought scooping up food on his own fork and spoon-fed Soda.

Soda laughed and took the bite happily, humming as he chewed.

“Awe ya’ll witnessin’ this Christmas miracle! Mommy and daddy are back together!” Two-Bit dozed with a gurgle that the others assumed was supposed to be a chuckle. 

Dally peeked an eye open to smirk at Two-Bits joke, winking at Johnny who smiled as he noticed his wake-up. Two-Bit was so quick on his feet with jokes it even made Dallas laugh sometimes. 

“Quit it, ya ape…” Steve growled, then looked around smirking to all his pals who were waiting to hear on the news about how his date went. Soda had guessed good since he didn’t end up coming back to the house to crash on their couch. The night before he said he had to go home but Soda knew what he was really up to. 

He had been the one to let everyone in on it when they all woke up, secrets always made Soda go looney, plus Steve seemed to have seen it coming anyway.

Ponyboy could hear them as he got ready. He woke up around six to smoke on the porch before everyone would be awake just to get some peace, close to the time Darry woke up to get breakfast going. Darry was always to himself in the mornings, too tired to be any kind of cross with Pony. 

It was in those moments, caught at dawn before the reality of situations and status weighed on them, when they were simply people waking up from their dreams. Ponyboy wished he could stay in those moments- but eventually, the world had to wake up.

The boys all started waking up around seven, excluding Dally, who wouldn’t wake up before noon even if it was for his own damn wedding. 

He made a note to visit the office during lunch about his locker and books since he missed that part of orientation- he should be fine though, since last year when they had the meeting about him skipping eighth grade to move on straight to ninth they had given him all the information he would in an orientation minus books and a schedule. 

Opening up his shared dresser when he finally made it inside after killing a few weed sticks to calm his nerves about his first school day, he looked through to see what would look good. He pulled out an olive green sweatshirt. It was old and fading, but it still had its sleeves (while the boys in their gang tended to remove them to look tough) and the fall air still had its bite, so he put it on. 

He walked to his closet then searched for his drawstring bag that held his track shorts and shirt and the old running shoes Darry was gifted during middle school and has since outgrown. The soles were worn out and a small hole on the toes began to form but they couldn't afford new ones. 

Bills were tight even when they had two parents to help pay for things, and Darry was only barely pulling them through with the help of everyone in the neighborhood doing all they could.

He thought about putting on jeans, but room cold pants in the morning on freezing smooth legs were a boy's worst enemy- and also his first class was gym. So he swapped out the shorts to put on and replaced them in his bag with some dark blue jeans and his Chucks since he had a mind to put on his running shoes as well. Those dark blue jeans had been some-what new; an older lady down their street had brought them, said she knew their mother.

Ponyboy was the only one they had fit. 

Ponyboy walked to the bathroom as he heard them all howling and hooting as their fellow grease laid on the details of how his night had went with this girl Evie he had met earlier that week and had somehow managed to get to sneak out with him. 

She had been the friend of Two-Bits girlfriend Kathy’s brother from Jr. High- or something like that. Around the parts of Tulsa, everyone was a friend of a friend. 

Pony laughed about how everyone seemed to know each other in weird and awkward ways. Some people he wished he’d never met at all, like Steve. He was meaner than a shaken up beehive and almost as quick on his feet with the jokes as Two-Bit, so no matter what Pony tried to say in a fight he always ended up sounding stupid. Not stupid enough to start a physical fight out of it though- Pony liked not having to breathe through a tube. 

Not that Steve would ever really lay hands on Ponyboy or anyone in their gang for that matter, especially if Soda had anything to say about it. Steve cared too much for them even if he didn't want to admit it- but Pony knew the desire to do so was there; making him mad was Ponyboys specialty.

He carefully greased and combed back his light brown hair. He wasn’t too big on the color; he wishes his hair could be as dark as the Shepherd brothers’ swirling and wild hair, but the grease did a good job at darkening it.

He thought about Curly, then, as he looked over his lighter hair and doing justice in combing it back as tuff as he could. He hadn’t seen him the whole summer. Last he hard, he was sent to live with his uncle in New York for the break as punishment for stealing and pawning a family friend's jewelry. He should be back now for school, though. 

He wished Tim would have given him a number to call him to, but Tim had said part of his punishment was ‘no contact with the outside world’. He had made it feel like he went away to prison- and knowing Tim he probably just said that to mess with Pony.

Ponyboy was brought back to the conversation going on in the living room when a heavy knock on their screen door. He heard Darry sluggishly trying to calm everyone down just in case it wasn’t the state making a surprise visit. Pony pushed the bathroom door open and peeked his head out. 

Pony saw Darrys’ shoulders relax as he peeked through the eye hole, stepping back to open the door and let their guest in. 

“Hey, man, what can I do for you”, Darry said to his old friend. Tim Shepherd stepped around Darrys’ broad shoulders and nodded to Pony whose head was still poking out like a peeping child.

“Heard those squares by the Q were on the kid’s tail yesterday, Two-Bit laid it on Brandy last night on his way out from Bucks.” He bent down by the couch and ruffled Johnny's hair before trying to steal his plate but Dally smacked his hand away and gave him an icy glare. “After what happened with those south side toads and the Brumley Boys, the ol’ bull asked me to check-in.” Tim quipped. He was referring to an unprompted rumble that left one of the Brumlys’ guys in ICU and the rest got sent to a reformatory- the Socs’ had gotten off scot-free. 

Brandy Mclain, the bull Tim brought up, was a barmaid that worked with Two-bits mother. She was an aesthetically shaped olive-skinned woman with long and thick dark brown hair in her early thirties ostracized from her high-status family about a decade ago after her father caught her getting real intimate and personal with the neck of her college classmate when he went to visit. 

Her classmates’ name was Emily. 

Since then, though, Brandy has almost been like an aunt to Two-Bit after Ms. Mathews helped her get on her feet all those years ago and in exchange had helped care after Two-Bit back when he was just ankle-biter-Keith. They had been friends back in high school though Brandy was a little younger. 

Ponyboy remembers his mother and Ms. Mathews arguing about it on the porch while the three brothers played with their friend Kieth in the front yard. Mrs. Curtis had said that ‘she ought to be careful to not open doors to the wrong kind and that she had Kieth to worry about, that the east side only stands up for their own.’ Mrs. Curtis had just been worried that Ms. Mathews was using Brandy as a way to help get over her husband running out on her, but she stood up for their old classmate. 

“She is our own- Women ought to stick with women,” Ponyboy remembers Ms. Mathews said, and Mrs. Curtis’ words lost their sharp edge after that- so slowly but surely Brandy became one of them. No one knew her as the neighborhood butch even when they found out about her past, though some have tried it with her temper. She was a dog with no bark but all bite. 

After a couple of years, Brandy had been known for three things; her perfect old fashions, her right hooks that could take out Hercules, and being a good listener. 

“Hey!” Two-Bit hollered after Tim made his way into their house, walking around the circus of boys and pausing once he caught Ponyboy walking out from the bathroom, making no move to greet the Shepherd when they made eye contact. “I’d lay it on any doll after a few hours spent at Bucks!” He laughed. Darry shut him up, kicking him off their coffee table and spilling his beer. Keith wasn’t the only one to see Brandy as an aunt. 

“Well, maybe if you put on some lace and a skirt, you’ll get lucky-” Soda joked only to have the redhead shove his head and have it turn into a cutthroat match of uncle. 

Ponyboy rolled his eyes and turned away to grab his book bag that he had left on his and Sodas’ bed when Tim called out his name. 

“Hey, Pony-kid.” Tim said in his usual dangerous and low tone. He eyed him with wolf-like eyes and leaned against the wall closest to the youngest Curtis and crossed his arms. Ponyboy felt uncomfortable under his stare, Tim was always good at doing that to any guy- except guys like Darry. 

Steve had jumped into Sodas and Two-Bits’ fight only after he licked his plate clean, Darry looking at the clock and shook his head, trying to walk around his wild gang, shoving the boys heads as he went along.

“Get on out this here house, grease monkeys,” Darry hollard, rolling his eyes, and playfully knocking Steves’ and Sodas’ heads together. “Y'all two got work half past this next hour, and if I see a cut from your check cause of tardiness, both yall gone get skinned, ya dig?” The eldest Curtis rambled on, shoving the boys in his living room here and there in the directions they needed to be. 

Darry turned to Tim who made himself at home among the ruckus, “And don’t worry about my family, Tim. These boys get along better than fleas in a dogs' ears.” 

He had his hand on his hip and the other pointing with a firmly shaken hand the way he does when he wants everyone to know he was the man of the house. “Ain't no jumpins’ to be worrin’ about. Now, it's you who should worry about your own- especially that kid brother of yers.” Darry grabbed his keys and toolbox, eyeing over the room for anything he’d missed. 

“Curly?” Pony said a little too eagerly. Did it mean Curly was back if Darry even brought him up to Tim? Why didn’ anyone tell him? He felt his ears and cheeks grow warm when Tims’ grin got wider. He bit his nail nervously and looked away, his other arm folded over his chest his sleeve pulled over his hand as he fiddles with it. 

Dally had woken up again momentarily to get up and move to one of the two now empty beds, whichever he got to first, patting Tim on his shoulder as a delayed greeting while he walked by him. He paused when he saw Ponyboy, smacking his dry lips and squinted his irritated eyes. 

Ponyboy cocked his head to the side, eyebrows scrunched, as he rubbed his arm. 

The towheaded greaser hooked his thumb behind him towards the door and let out an annoyed snort. “You fixen for a whippin walkin’ out in those cheeky bottom huggers in that freezin’ cold?” Pony huffed and tried to cool himself before he could say something he’d regret. The others were still horsing around and heading out the door, Johnny on the couch tying up his kicks and Two-Bit polishing off his third breakfast beer. 

Ponyboy thinks about how weird Dallas acted last night when he walked out in his underwear and he suddenly felt uncomfortable- like when a teacher yells at you in front of the class or when you catch a whooping as a child in public for acting up. 

“Lay off, got gym by the first bell.” Ponyboy said, tongue in his cheek as he shrugged his shoulders defensively, “don't feel like changin’ either.”

Dally bobbed his head and scoffed like something deeper was irking him. “Oh, okay, okay, don't get mouthy, Pone. Get pneumonia for all I care.” He grumbled, shoving Ponyboy’s shoulder as he grumpily waddled himself down the hall. 

Ponyboy followed him into his room, grabbing his bag before Dally could throw himself on it. The snow headed hood stayed leaning on the dresser yawning, his sharp chin pointed to the ceiling. Dally caught him from behind on the neck of his jumper on Ponys’ way out of the room. 

“Don’t go walkin by yer self in those, kid.” was all he said then shoved Ponyboy out the bedroom door. Ponyboy caught his reflection down the hall through Darrys open door in his dresser mirror. He put his head down for a moment in thought, pulling his drawstring bag onto his shoulders. 

Ponyboy was halted to a stop on his way out with Two-Bit and Johnny when he felt the back of a large hand press itself onto his chest, preventing him from moving. He looks up at his older brother, his stern eyes looking over the outfit Pony decided to wear. He tried his best to bite his tongue.

Darry let his hand fall, his other raising it up to grip the nape of his neck. 

He was probably thinking Ponyboy was on edge and itching for a cigarette and needed something to keep him grounded, Darry always showed his affection through physical reassurance. It was always something that Soda would melt into and even seek out at times- strong tight hugs, a sturdy hand on an uncertain shoulder. That was how Darry showed he loved them without having to say it. Pony wished it would soothe him the same way it did Soda, but physical contact always made him uncomfortable.

“You got jeans?” Darry said, tapping his bag. “And lunch, don’t be forgettin’ your lunch on the counter, you got your pencil, kid?” Darry went on, trying to hide the fact that he was fussing over his baby brother though failing miserably. He was starting to sound a lot more like their dad when he’s not busy yelling at Pony for every mistake, funnily enough. Soda was smiling dopely at his two brothers, Steve pushing him out to Darrys truck. 

Remembering about his lunch sack, Pony grabbed it and walked back to Darry who was eyeing his nervously. “Don't get your ridges caught, Dar,” Pony said a little annoyed, but really he wanted to reassure his brother. 

The horn from Darry’s truck rang, Stev and Soda probably tired of waiting for their driver to hurry along. Two-Bit probably saw it as a challenge and blared his own car horn. The two brothers could hear their friends messing around, Darry just rolled his eyes and shot Pony an anxious look. Darry was too young for all this worrying. 

“Now listen, don’t be gettin’ into any trouble, ya hear?” Darry eyes Tim who was still smirking and leaning against their wall, feigning disinterest. Bending down slightly so their faces were level. He smiled at his little brother and it made Ponyboy want to smile back. “Be good, Pone.”

Tim walked out in front of them as they made their way out, Darry hopping into his truck and honking his goodbye as he drove off. Pony fixed to do the same when Tim put a hand on his shoulder. 

He looked up at the elder greaser. Tim lit a cigarette, offering Ponyboy one but he just shook his head, rubbing his hands to stay warm. His legs were freezing. “Don't be gettin’ into too much trouble kid, high schools’ a recipe for all sorts of shit.” 

Two-Bit, from his truck, yelled something about leaving Pony behind if he didn’t hurry up, Johnny sticking his upper body out the window with his own cigarette as he waited for Pony with puppy eyes. “But if you do find yer’self caught up…” and he trailed off, handing Pony a folded up piece of paper and a small blade. It looked like a switch but it had no tap or button to open it. He rolled it out of curiosity and the blade flung out. A gravity blade.

“How the hell you get this, Tim?” Pony said a little star struck. Tim was always getting his hands on some either super illegal or super dangerous shit. Metaphorically and literally.

Tim took a quick drag before stomping out his weed and ruffled Ponys’ hair. “Don’t worry about it kid… and don't lose that” He pointed to the paper clutched in Pony’s hand. “That’s from Curly.”

Tim got in his rusted flip-top that he salvaged from a junkyard and drove off with a mock salute. 

Pony looked as Tim drove off with a slack jaw. 

Honk! “Princess Ponygirl, it’s time to hop in yer chariot!” Pony rolled his eyes, “Not tryin’ get pummeled by super-dope for takin’ you late!” Two-Bit called one last time. Pony shoved the note in his pocket for later and hopped in. 

Pony sat by himself on the indoor gyms’ bleachers, playing with his class syllabus that he had already read over about four times. 

The gym teachers were helping the forgetful kids got their gym clothes and locks while everyone else who remembered already got to pick out their lockers. The other kids were bigger than Pony and all seemed to know each other. He wishes he could have had this class with one of the gang, but just his luck he’s stuck with a whole lot of Socy kids too posh to talk to him. He rubbed his arm awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable.

He shot his head up when he heard a group of boys sitting higher up than him laughing. They kept throwing glances and talking under their breaths, making Ponys’ face red and scrunch up his features and try and hide into himself. “Stupid squares…” He mumbled. 

One of them heard him. “What’d ya say, grease?” one said as he balled up his paper to throw at him. He aimed for his head and made the shot. Pony hit it away from his face and heatedly stood up, cursing obscenities under his breath. 

“Curtis! Please sit back down!” One of the coaches yelled out when he noticed the ruckus. They laughed at him as a scandalized look flushed over his face. A pair of girls sitting a little below him shot him sympathetic looks, then giggled when he noticed them. 

When they all had to go outside to go through their pre-running stretches and show the new students the truck and warm up overview, Pony felt a hand on his lower back as they walked over to the track to do a quick run. His body went rigid and he looked up to the taller boy. It was one of the boys who had laughed at him. 

The boy looked over to his friends who were obviously listening in with smirks then leaned down slightly to speak into Ponyboys’ ear. “Hey baby,” He started and Pony already wanted to punch him in the face. If it were any of the other boys on his position, they already would have with no doubt. But he had to stay out of trouble. “You look like your feelin’ down, so- let me feel you up,” as he said the last part his hand slid lower and almost squeezed his rear end before Ponyboy slapped his hand away and jumped from him like he was on fire. 

“Don’t touch me!” Pony hissed, trying to walk faster to the track. Of course, the coach only pays attention when it’s Pony about to act up but suddenly he’s blind and deaf with they’re harassing him. The boys walked faster and got up next to him. Pony refused to look at them but grew worried when he realized they were shielding him from the only adult present. “Y'all are sick.” Pony spat.

One of them snorted. “We’re sick? We heard what happened yesterday, you fruit.” 

Another one pulled his shirt and shoved him, making Pony stumble and cautiously look at them. “Yeah, yer really a broad ain't ya? Dressin’ like a man. That’s what he heard anyway… just wanna make sure it aint’ no long tale.” He said as another one got closer and pulled at the waistband of Pony’s shorts. His breath caught, grabbing the intruding hands’ wrist and trying to get him to let go. 

He counted his lucky stars when the coach announced he was about to blow the whistle for them to start running. Before he took off he looked at the group with the hardest look he could manage, “You know Dallas Winston? Keith Mathews? Steve Randle?” He asked.

“No…” One of them said a little off guard, but it looked like the names sounded familiar. 

“If you don’t quit, you will.” Pony said and with a loud whistle, went off running with record speed.

They didn’t speak to him after that but their eyes never left his body as they continued to whisper among themselves. When they got into the locker rooms, Pony realized he messed up by picking one hidden away for privacy cause now he feels like he just set himself up. The same group of boys cornered him again. 

He could sense them about to grab his shoulder as he was changing, pretending not to notice them. Just as quickly as he slipped his jeans and sweatshirt on and close his lock, he swirled around and punched the first one he saw square in the nose- grabbing his bag and walking out as fast as he could before anyone could stop him. 

Ponyboy knew how to be a hood, looks and mentality aside. And in extremely trying moments like these, Pony had to be a Stallion- as Two-Bit had put it once. It as kind of like knowing the ethically right choice to make but choosing the chaotic and possibly most stupid choice because you don’t want to get harassed or jumped in the locker room with only your skivvies on.

He was, again, very thankful when no one caught him leaving a minute before the bell for his second period, hoping those guys were smart enough to keep their mouths shut about whoever he just whacked. Ponyboy wasn’t the only hood to go to this school, though he may be the only one with regular attendance.

His hand hurt all throughout his second period but he was too focused on the adrenaline his anxiety gave him to care. 

Two-Bit was too busy selling cigarettes to some freshmen for a buck a stick, claiming that they had been coated with a special ‘juice’ that would get them high, to be eating lunch with Johnny and Ponyboy. Johnny smiled shyly as he saw the rust-headed greaser get approached by a teacher and quickly have to hide his merchandise, playing dumb. 

“John, you hungry?” Ponyboy asked, sliding half his sandwich in front of his best friend without even looking up and continuing for forge Darrys’ signature on the papers surrounding him. Ponyboy had his lunch and current syllabus’ and supply sheets sprawled about the table. Johnny rolled his eyes at the nickname but took a bite anyway. 

He noticed a guy with a swollen nose and his buddies’ staring at Pony heatedly, but the smaller greaser was making a point to ignore them. “What’s there deal, man?” Johnny muttered. Visible anger always made Johnny uncomfortable. It was a mystery why he was so attached to Dallas. 

Ponyboy glanced up and made a show of waving to them, smiling wide and then letting it fall for an annoyed look. “Somethins’ in the water aroun’ here, Johnny.” Pony leaned in, making sure Two-Bit was still occupied. “Yesterday, man, some from Bobs’ gang kept talkin’ to me like some fruit… and today too, in the gym.” He nodded to the group still dogging him. 

The mention of Bob made Johnny nervous- just like everything else. “Uh, Pony…” Johnny said as he leaned in too, worry obvious on in his eyes. 

“And- and Dally this morning- and last night! Everyone is getting their laces all knotted over how I look. I mean, July I’ll be fourteen! I ain’t no kid no more.” Pony ranted, unintentionally unloading all his worries to his best bud. He slowed down when he noticed something was biting back a response. “...What, Johnny?”

The thin boy rubbed his arms and looked away. “When Dal and I were lighting up last night we got to talkin’.” He trailed, picking up the sandwich slice and inhaled the last of it down. Ponyboy eyed his own slice and handed it over. Johnny lit up and took it thankfully. “He’s just tight assed over you recently... was real taken ‘back by yer figure too in them whities last night- you workin’ out Pony?”

Two-Bit yelled one last thing to the red-faced moldy teacher and sat back down at their table, Pony just threw his hands up completely annoyed, getting closer to Johnny. “Golly, guys, I can’t help how I look! I’m just as tuff as you lot! Don’t change the subject, I know ya’ll have been excluding me-”

“From what?” Johnny asked, pointedly interrupting him.

Ponyboy blew air out from his nose. “The rumble y'all had defending the Brumley Boys? I was savvy to that. Why wasn’t I thrown in? Even Johnny went,” He gave an apologetic look and Johnny just shook his head and shrugged in agreement. “I know I jus’ rolled into bein’ fourteen, but even now I can’t catch some slack?”

It clicked what the two other boys were talking about and Two-Bit leaned in as well. “Ponyboy, it’s not even just that, you’re ‘The Kid’, ya dig?” He did air quotes with his fingers as he said ‘The Kid’ like was a title he should have been already aware of. Johnny nodded in agreement like it was always obvious to him too and that got Ponyboy even more frustrated. “Some jets you have.” Two-Bit finished, poking Pony for being so slow on things. 

“Oh alright, so we fixen for nicknames now?” Pony said as he stood up, gathering his scattered papers into his binder and carefully sliding the rest of his lunch to Johnny, he wasn't hungry anymore. “What ‘bout you two? ‘Drunk Bum and Lost Puppy’?” Pony huffed about to walk off. 

“Well don’t go havin' a hissy fit, kid” Two-Bit said, laughing as the younger greaser scoffed and started to stomp away angry. 

“Drop dead twice, Keith!” He shouted as he walked away back into the side building towards the library. They all knew he didn’t mean it, but it wasn’t even the statement that got Two-Bit worked up.

“What, and look you?” He yelled back, still standing, and visibly more agitated now that his real name was used. Only his mom called him Keith, and outside of that, it was as good as an insult. He stood there red-faced for another second before huffing and throwing himself back down onto the table bench. 

Johnny looked nervously between his two friends as he made quick work of eating Ponyboys’ abandoned food. Two-Bit looked like he wanted to go after him but Johnny shook his head, knowing Ponyboy needed his space- plus, they weren’t the only hoods told to keep an eye on him. “Well… I reckon that wasn’ what Sodapop had in mind when was askin’ us to talk wit’ him…” He muffled as he swallowed a large bite, immediately after grabbing his milk carton and chugging it down.

Two-Bit narrowed his eyes at him but couldn’t stay mad long. He cuffed the back of Johnny's head playfully and stole a small orange from the lunch sack to eat. “Don’t choke Johnny Cake, the food ain’t goin nowhere.”

“So that’s the grease, huh?” One of the Socs said as their leader hopped off the lunch table where they planted themselves, just so they could openly staring down the hood they had harassed earlier that morning, and started to follow after him when his ‘bodyguards’ weren’t paying attention. 

Their leader scoffed and shook his head, wincing when the action brought him pain. “Yeah, and we're gon’ teach that fireball dame a lesson.” He said ignorantly. 

Already close to the door as their leader muttered his statement, a wide heavy hand grabbed the freshmans’ shoulder and halted them all to a stop. They looked up and suddenly they all looked like puppies with their tail between their legs. Bob Sheldon smirked down at them with Randy and a few of the other senior socs’ beside him, hands in their pockets and smirks looking close to primal. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be talkin' about a green-eyed kid? Associated with that trash back here” He nodded to an oblivious Keith “Two-Bit” Mathews and Johnathan “Johnny” Cade. 

The younger Socs’ previously determined domineer swapped for a more pressed unsureness, having a feeling the older boys weren’t clueing them in on their twisted inside joke. “Maybe. Stay out of it, Bob, it’s not your body to bag.” He said, trying to be as stoic as possible. His friends backed away, not wanting to be a part of it. 

Bob’s smirk grew wider, his crew standing straighter and heading inside. The older blonde love tapped the kids cheek harshly, planting his palm onto the top of his head to shove him out of his way. “Thanks for answering my question, kid, now scram on back to Sesame Street.” 

He paused before stepping all the way inside, turning back to the group of boys and giving them the harshest glare he could manage. “He’s my target, you let that be known.” He said referencing to all the other socs’ who might want a kick out of messing with the new rumor, gesturing for them to run off.

The freshman glared right back. “You see my fucking nose? He’s our dead meat.” He finished then walked off.

Ponyboy managed to locate the fictional section rather quickly even though he felt he was still seeing red from how mad Two-Bit had made him. He was one of his best buddies and he knew he would get over it by the time school let out, but it felt like everything anyone said to him was the wrong thing. Always getting under his skin and inflicting confused feelings. One second Darry was yelling at him for needing to grow up and the next they were telling him he was the baby. And on top of all of that, it was a new inside joke apparently for Socs to tail him like dogs. 

Two-Bit was right, high school was no better than the wild- and he felt like a mouse in a building full of big cats. 

He found a book that looked interesting enough and threw himself angrily onto a solo chair set up at the end of the aisle. The librarian who was putting away books narrowed her eyes at him from how aggressive he seemed, and after a five-second staring match, he sat up straighter as he opened his book to read, clearing his throat when she finally walked away with a shake of her head. 

The youngest Curtis brother sighed as his body seemed to relax, his muscles loosening with every word he read. Throwing himself into a new story so that he doesn’t have to think about his own worries; focused on the journeys of others and having the excitement of conflict without having to dread the consequences. It’s why he loved them so much, an escape into a world too good and simple to be true but complex enough to be interesting. 

Ponyboy didn’t even notice at first when several people had crowded around him. When he did, he was about to shoot up out of his chair but was roughly shoved back down. A hand closed around his mouth, rough hands holding him down into the chair as he bucked himself around trying to get out of their hold. Even though he was beside himself with an immediate need to get away, he stayed as quiet as possible. He was in a library after all. 

‘Now is not the time to be a fucking nerd, Pony’, He chided to himself in his head. 

A tall, lean figure towered over him, one hand supporting his body on the arm of the chair, the other around his mouth and his face real close to Ponys. He could feel his warm breath hit his face like a slap and it made him flinch. Ponyboy looked up and met the frosted yet fiery lit eyes of Robert “Bob” Sheldon. “Oof phuck”, Pony muffled into the hand. 

He recognized Randy, he was holding his left arm down and made him drop the book to his side by his feet and the stockier ginger kid with the letterman's jacket from yesterday who was holding his other side down. The soc who he had seen around the DX wasn’t, but a new bunch of others were surrounding them, blocking the view of them and pretending to look at books or whatnot. He groaned to himself, not hopeful about his position at all- they had ambushed him. 

And since it was lunch, the library was loud with teenage chatter, busy and distracting enough to make his position mot so out of place. For all everyone knew, they were just boys horsing around.

“Listen up, kid, you better be real quiet now,” He started, letting off his mouth only to slowly brush his knuckles across his cheek, his rings cold against his smooth face. He shuddered but nodded, evening out the coldest stare he could manage. “Good.” He smiled, moving his hand up to grab a fist full of Ponys’ hair and yanked his head back. The ginger guy wrapped his meaty hand around Pony’s pale neck and gave a slight squeeze in warning. 

He gasped and widened his eyes, shooting a look at him. His eyes were glossed over as he stared back with a heated gaze and it made Ponys’ skin crawl. 

“Look he’s squirming like some broad- hold him down!” One of them said, causing another one to grab his thighs to prevent their kicking. “Man, these legs too…” His left thigh was squeezed, feeling him up, and it took every part of him to not scream as loud as he could. 

Every warning signal in his body lit up when he felt Bob dip his hand under Ponys’ green jumper and shirt and trail his way up, lifting it in the process and exposing his bare torso. His breath caught as he peeled his eyes away from Mr. Incredible Hulk and stared helplessly as Bob. “What are you doing-” He whispered but not quietly enough it seemed since the grip around his neck got tighter. 

Bob rolled his eyes and shook his head as if he was dealing with a troublesome child. “Greasers really are slow, aren’t they?” He cupped the breast of Ponys’ chest and squeezed. Ponyboy was fit and his muscles were built, but since he was still growing some parts of his were softer than he’d like them to be. His face flushed a bright red, feeling how warm his face was and how sweaty his skin felt he didn’t even want to think about how embarrassing he probably looked at that moment.

The gang wasn’t around this time to help him get out of the Socs’ new sick and twisted game of physically hurting him in a way that was different than the usual jumping. This new game made his skin crawl, made him want to puke. “Your skin is so soft, Ponygirl.”

“Stop-” He breathed but the hand closed around his throat even more and now he really felt like he was fighting for breath. His lips parted in a small ‘O’, wet with drool and his face flushed pink. He kicked his feet when Bob buried his face in the base of his neck, teeth threatening to sink themselves into shivering flesh. He squeezed his eyes shut as they began to tear up. He assumed the plan was to freak him out, and the last this he wanted was to let them know they won. 

Bob breathed in and felt around more, hand roaming lower. “You don’t smell like no dirty hood boy to me, does he fellas?” He spoke lowly. A random kid walked along his aisle and Pony hoped he would help, but after several glares, he turned back around and skittered off. He felt his heart sank. Were they just going to invade his personal space than beat him up in a library? Of all places?

Randy, whos hold grew looser the farther Bob went, smacked his friend's arm, a pensive look on his face. “This isn’t the theatre, Bobby, let's go somewhere more private.” He urged. Ponyboy couldn’t see anything beyond the wall of bodies surrounding him but he knew that so many teen boys being in one corner of a library like they were was enough to make people suspicious. Someone was bound to speak up. 

Well, hopefully. 

Bob gave him a tight smile and sighed out slowly. He knew Randy was right but he hated being the one not calling the shots it seemed. Ponyboys eyes shot back and forth between the two. It made him hopeful- if they had to relocate, Ponyboy could break away and run off unscathed and get to live another day. There were six of them, but Ponyboy was hopeful in his ability to run away. Bob seemed to make up his mind, harshly grabbing Ponyboy's chin and jaw and forced him to look him in the face. 

Ponyboy breathed in and out harshly through his nose, starting to feel claustrophobic as Bob looked into his eyes. Pony could see various emotions run through them like a flashing movie picture reel. His hands were sweaty from gripping into fists so tightly, and he could feel a headache coming on. He wished he just stayed with the Two-Bit and Johnny and let them patronize him. 

At least then he wouldn’t be getting groped as some sick joke right now. 

“Asked around about you, Pony-Boy. No mommy and daddy, big brothers dropping out of school just for you.” His words hurt more than any punch as he stated them plainly with fake pity. “It’s hard to believe that hoods would do all that for some useless dirty kid brother.” He felt like a frog in a science lab being dissected in front of all of the other teenage boys. His eyes felt scratchy as he held back the urge to cry. “A sister however…” 

The implication was caught onto quick and it made Ponyboys arms raise with goosebumps. He was starting to realize they were serious- they really wanted an excuse to look at him the way they do. 

He regretted it the second he did it, but the look of absolute anger Bob had when he loudly cleared his throat and spit the largest glob of saliva he could manage right onto his stupid face, it was worth it. 

“I don’t know what kind of fancys’ you have with little boys, but I don’ got any interest in white trash like you.” He said and he wasn’t quiet about it. 

The bell rang for lunch to end and for a second they all just looked at each other. Bobs' angry demeanor didn’t falter as he whipped the spit from his face, flinging it back down onto Ponyboy. He took the loud ring of the minute-long bell to harshly backhand Ponyboy, his rings busting a good-sized gash on his cheek. He groaned in pain and squeezed his eyes shut when Bob raised his hand one more time. 

In the flash of a fleeting moment, the reality of his situation sank in- it was only his first day and he already had two run-ins with a greaser's worst nightmare. If this was the basis for what his future at high school was going to be like than Ponyboy was ready right there and then to change his name and run away to Mexico. 

While he was stuck in his head, he suddenly realized the second hit never came and that he was no longer being held down. He peeked his eyes open and hiked his knees up when he realized a fight had broken out, practically at his feet. Bob and Randy were gone, but the last four were being wrestled to the ground or tossed against bookshelves with a yelling librarian trying to get them to stop.

The hood that had come to his rescue stood up straight with his back facing Ponyboy; his wrists were branded with spiked leather cuff-bracelets, his leather jacket sleeves hiked to his elbows. The last of the Socs ran off like the cats in his neighborhood when the more deranged boys light up fireworks in their ass. Ponyboy shot up from his chair, not wanting to look pathetic- but when the greaser finally turned around, Pony couldn’t help the wide smile that plastered his face. 

The principal and a few other male staff members such as Ponyboys’ track coach ran in hot-headed and fuming. Mr. Syme, an English teacher, pointed in their direction with one hand and holding the collar of one of the Soc’s shirts who tried to run off, telling them all to stay put. 

The principal walked up to them, ignoring Ponyboy and getting real close to the hoods’ face. “Curly Shepherd! Office! Now!”


	3. Coming To Yer Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mind is numb from this one boys lmao
> 
> Thank you oopeachyboyoo for helping me edit!
> 
> Let me know what ya'll think after this one, and also if anyone has any suggestions for 1950s/60s media!
> 
> Some that I recommend right now are The Warriors' by Sol Yurick and The Wanderers by Richard Price; both are books about teen gangs based in New York during the 60s! The Wanderers has a really good movie too, which has been one of my favorites since forever lmao 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos so far, hope you enjoy!

The New York morning air bit at Curly’s exposed ears as he popped his jean jackets collar up to help keep him warm, his seamed cap beanie slipping as he rushed to the train station. Ticket clutched in his hand as if it would slip away and his ride back home would disappear. 

He hiked his falling bag up higher over his shoulder when he heard the whistle of his train shriek, announcing her arrival. 

Curly looked up at the gray sky, white tufts of smoke dancing in the air. He rushed to the platform with situated papers and thought about how many ways he could have jumped onto the train unnoticed- but his uncle had paid for his way home, so he got to board like any other normal passenger. His uncle was probably the toughest man in New York, but he was also the most honest- something Curly had learned a lot about over the past few months. 

He waited in a uniform line of entering people, breathing in the morning air deeply before he stepped in. It was hopefully the last time he’d ever be in the city for a long while, and he couldn’t wait to go back to where he belonged. He felt like a soldier returning home from battle, stories to tell and a special person to come back to. 

His whole summer had been mapped out for him, from the moment he arrived to the moment he left. His uncle had him stuck working at their family bookstore during the week, helping out in soup kitchens and participating in community work with his aunt and cousins on the weekends. 

Like clockwork, his cousins would wake him up at five in the morning to get ready for the day, and if he didn’t wake up the first time they asked, he could expect a cup of cold water thrown at his face on top of having to go out and scavenge for food on his own for breakfast and lunch. It was real rough and frankly felt like child abuse, but it worked- in a sick kind of way. Eventually, his natural body alarm woke him up without the help of annoying children and ‘cruel’ punishments. 

His uncle George was a tall lean fella who could throw a grown man across a room like he was tossing a bean bag- Curly had seen him do it too when they had all gone to a bar to reward Curly for how far he’d come in terms of learning a thing or two about being a man. Someone had tried to feel up his eldest cousin Rebecah who had tagged along in her mother's place. 

It was like seeing the devil in person, practically skinning the poor man alive, and at that moment Curly realized what kind of fire he was dealing with. It was then that he had decided it wouldn’t be so bad to be like George. 

During his stay in New York, he had met plenty of new people, old and young. But he was careful to never let them get too close, especially the girls.   
Although he did manage to obtain some sort of relationship with his family. Since he was always working or volunteering (against his will, at least at first, though he would never admit he was starting to like being so productive) he spent most of his time with his cousins. The older ones, Rebecah who was seventeen and the twin boys who were his age, fourteen, weren’t so bad. 

They knew the score and didn’t try to impress Curly who supposedly came from a ‘crime influenced’ ragged hood. If anything, at first, they didn’t even acknowledge him. Curly credits his greaser charm, but eventually, they warmed up to him after weeks of him secretly trying to get close to them- and they would sneak him out on night adventures throughout the city.

Rebecah was their leader, the twins worshiped her almost the same way he worshiped Tim, and she deserved it. The only other girl who could ever impress him like that was his mom and sometimes his sister. 

Red, which is what everyone called Rebecah for her constantly red cheeks and auburn hair, was a real wild card. She was responsible and reserved during the day to the face of her parents but when they were cruising around town at night looking for fun, she was bold and vibrant in a more liberating but dangerous way. 

It was like he could tell where Dallas had got it from. It was as if New York had a certain way of turning people into bull-headed trouble junkies. 

Every corner they turned, she would run into a friend or an acquaintance that liked her enough to get her into anywhere she wanted to go. No matter their obvious ages, she could get them into any club, knowing all the right spots, but smart enough to avoid any and all the trouble that could reach back to her folks. It was probably something she had to learn with the kind of parents she was stuck with. 

Though their nightlife was kept secret from their parents, they all saw how protective he was with their children and started to grow a soft spot for him- he had become a loved part of their immediate family. 

One night, when the twins were away looking for their own trouble and Curly was too tired to join them after a day's hard work, Rebecah had gone to his room. She was quiet as she climbed onto the top bunk he claimed as his bed and laid beside him, not looking at him or making any moves to talk to him first. He had felt uneasy, but he didn’t try and get her to leave. He just stared at the ceiling as he rested his head on his raised arms- only a few minutes in when he realized she was crying. 

“What's wrong, Red?” He asked a little shaken, sitting up and looking at his cousin’s pale face. Her usually cocky and confident eyes were filled with spilling tears as she glanced at him hopelessly. 

She took a jagged breath, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands, hiding from Curly, in a way. “I feel like I’m choking, Andrew, I don’t know what I’m gonna do…” She sobbed. Usually, he would argue with her and try fruitlessly to stop her from calling him by his birth name, but he knew now wasn’t the time. She had stopped talking, but Curly gave her time to go one, putting a hand on her shoulder to let her know he was listening. She let one of her hands fall from her wet eyes and reached for his comforting hand, squeezing. 

“John got me pregnant.” She said as if she was dying and had to come to terms with it. “And I'm beating it outta town- Daddy wouldn’t let me keep it…” He watched with wide eyes as she rubbed her stomach, eyes glued to the ceiling like Curlys’ had been. “You thinkin’ I’m some easy whore, ain't you? But I loved him. And I thought he loved me… But he’s gone.” She choked on her words at that last part. 

He felt his knuckles turn white and clammy as he clenched the hand that wasn’t keeping her grounded. John was her boyfriend who she had met at the soup kitchen, but he was a part of this Italian street gang full of young boys wanting to be mobsters one day. Curly didn’t like him, but he looked out for Rebecah- so he respected him. Or at least he did… not anymore. 

Now he just wanted to beat him till you wouldn’t be able to tell his body apart from trash on the street. She rambled on about how she knew where he was headed and how she had a friend who could help her in California. Supposedly he didn’t know she was pregnant and left town because of a robbery gone wrong but Curly was a boy and he knew how males worked. 

His eyes started to burn as he held back unwarranted tears. His extended family meant more to him than he’d like to admit- and though he’d only known his cousins for a couple of months, he would have no problem dying for any of them. “Red… you can always hitch your way to my town…” he started but she flinched as if his words had burned her. 

“No, your mom would send me back quicker than I could blink.” She stated. They laid there in silence for a long time and Curly felt so useless. Nothing he could say would make things better. She looked at him after a while and held his hand like it was the only thing keeping her from sinking to the floor, and smiled at him pathetically. “I gotta try- I- I just have to try for love, ya know? I just can’t give up so easily...”

The younger boy was quiet for a moment more before she spoke up again. “Look, kid, I’m so sorry… and listen, thank you- for everything.” She raised her hand to silence him when he shook his head at her apology and chuckled wetly. “I just… I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye so soon.” 

She shuffled around and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder and letting out a deep sigh. He looked at her sadly. Never had he felt so at a loss for words. “Me too, Red”, he said as he hugged her back for what would be the first and last time. “Me too.”  
Uncle George wasn’t stupid, he realized. When they wised up to what Red had done after she was gone, George’s eyes told him everything; that he knew about their night lives, that he knew about Rebecah, and that at his core, he knew Curly too. 

Maybe that’s what Curly wanted all along as he grew up a nobody in some small hick town crawling in privilege and the angry unfortunate, as a greaser, with a brother that seemed larger than life but just as stuck as he was. To be seen. 

He had been at the bookstore, organizing the shelves as his uncle came to his side out of nowhere, needing to get something off his chest. “She’ll finally smarten up, all right. She is my daughter after all.” George said that night before everyone was forced to turn in for bed. 

On his last day, after his aunt had given him his papers for travel and all four siblings that were left squeezed the light out of him with tight hugs, his uncle had clasped his hand down onto his shoulder with a tired smile. He said nothing to Curly out loud- but with his eyes, he told him everything. Curly smiled back and threw himself into a hug, not caring if it made him look like a loser. George was taken aback for a moment, but expectedly he wrapped his arms around his nephew’s shaking shoulders. Curly refused to show his face as he cried. They held onto him and chuckled knowingly, holding back tears themselves. 

“You’re an alright kid, Andrew. You better visit every once in a while.” Were their final words to him. 

Catching his reflection in the train window, he couldn’t even recognize himself. He itched to change out of his pleated pants and ‘New York’ get-up, itched to have his greaser suit zipped back up like a security blanket- but he knew he wasn’t the same boy that had last seen Tulsa. Clothes wouldn’t change that.

Bouncing his leg, he immediately settled into his seat, preparing for his long way home. 

An hour or so in, he thought about what Red had told him the last night he saw her. Pulling out a piece of paper from his bag, he asked people around him if they had a pen. When he found one, he wrote a letter addressed to an old friend. 

He sighed as soon as he finished his note, stuffing it away for later and getting comfortable again. Relaxing, his mind wandered from fresh memories to old faces that he couldn’t wait to see again. 

Curly had to try.

“Yer lookin’ thinner, Pone, what them brothers feedin’ you? Scraps?” Curly smirked, ignoring the angry man in front of him, his head turned over his shoulder to Ponyboy. The kid felt his face heat up and he hated himself for it. His heartbeat racing fast, but this time it wasn’t from fear.

A lump formed in his throat when he realized how humiliating their reunion was- Curly having to come in and save him from trouble like always. When they were younger, they had been best friends until Curly got to skip a grade way before Pony did. He had been so smart and Pony thought so highly of him- and then he had to treat it like it wasn’t a big deal and start skipping and getting into trouble. 

Pony would try to follow, but he always pushed him away, only treating him like he was capable when they were on their own. For a whole two weeks, they had fought, but soon they couldn’t stay away from each other and were at one another's side again- much to their families annoyance. 

They still laugh about the time Tim had knocked their heads together and left them whining on the ground with giant headaches after he had caught them playing a game of chicken with a lit cigarette pressed between their thumbs. 

Subconsciously, he rubbed the faint scar on the pad of his thumb against his jeans. “Yer one to talk, Curls, shouldn’t you be scratchin’ tally marks in a cell somewhere?” He smarted, allowing himself to be mad about the fact that one of his closest friends had practically abandoned him without a trace and left him during one of the most trying times of his life- which was really saying something.

Curly chuckled and Pony found himself smiling- he missed that sound. While Johnny was basically his brother- both kindred souls with a track record of countless similarities- Curly was his best friend without the attachment of treating each other like family. Curly was shuffling his hand around in his pocket, it catching Ponys’ attention. 

The principal and Ponys’ couch, who gave him a scolding warning glare, grabbed either side of Curly, pulling him along. They locked eyes up until one of the annoyed teachers blocked his view and looked him up and down. “Alright kid, let’s not straggle behind, get a move on.”

He groaned. Of course, he’d have to go to the office too. 

Ponyboy sighed at his reflection in the schools’ bathroom mirror. The gash on his cheek had stopped bleeding by the time they let him go from the office after fifteen minutes of questions from the vice principal over what happened. He didn’t say much, not wanting the incident to get back to Soda- or even worse, Darry. The exasperated look on Mrs. Cambells’ face told him she expected as much too. 

He was supposed to head back to fifth period, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in looking roughed up like he did, so he hid in the bathroom and tried to put himself back together. The urinals smelt like shit though. Good to know their high school is just as run down as the Will Rogers Junior High. 

With a wet paper towel, he wiped off the dried blood and winced when certain amounts of pressure irritated the wound. He let out a tired sigh as he flung the soggy wad of paper into the sink. The small ‘plop’ sound it made as it slapped against the porcelain gave him something to focus on as he gripped the edge of the sink. 

The way Curlys’ electric blue eyes had looked into his after not seeing him for so long popped back up into his head and Pony could feel his face heat up. 

Curly wasn’t able to say anything after their very short conversation as a few teachers grabbed a hold of him to drag the tall greaser down to the office. They both went in but were separated to make sure the stories added up and even then, Pony was released way before Curly. He wished he would have said something, anything about how man he really was, so Ponyboy didn’t have to look like an idiot lost for words at the beginning. God, he felt so lame, no wonder people are making fun of him about acting like a girl, he sure felt like one right now with how weird he’s reacting. It was like he was the lame princess stuck in the tower and Curly had come to slay the dragon. 

He groaned at the embarrassing analogy he made up all on his own. “Maybe I should lay off the books…” he muttered, picking up the soiled glob of a paper towel he had dropped in the sink to throw away. 

“Did I hear that wrong, kid, or did hell freeze over?” an icy voice said playfully behind him. Pony practically shrieked as he flung the wet blood-stained towel into the air, whipping himself around to see who had snuck up on him. The baby Curtis almost lost all color when his wide eyes fell on a scowling Dallas Winston, pulling off the wet paper towel that had landed on the top part of his forehead. 

Dally looked like he was about to rip the kid a new one when he realized there was blood on the trash that had been thrown at him and quickly looked up at Pony. The towheaded greaser speedily strode over to him and was manhandling the smaller hood in a matter of seconds; looking for any wounds Ponyboy might have besides the obvious cut on his face and rambled to himself angrily. 

He grabbed ahold of Ponyboy’s chin and forced the still shellshocked greaser to look him straight in the face. Dallas’ elfish features were lit with impatience as he steeled himself. “Who did this? You alright?” He asked, making sure his tone told Ponyboy he wasn’t in the mood for lies or being brushed off. 

Ponyboy nodded as he loosely held the wrist of Dallas’s hand that was holding his face out of anxiousness. He’d seen Dallas get this way with Johnny all the time but he wasn't used to the aggressive overprotective behavior being directed at him. He was equal parts scared and offended. “Yeah, yeah man, I’m cool, don’t twist an ankle over it…” He said to be defiant but regrettably, it made Dallas even madder. 

“Gettin’ smart with me-” He muttered, shaking his head, “Kid, it’s my business to know when you- or anyone in the gang for that matter, is roughed up, so don't make me ask again.” He said, his finger roughly tapping against Ponyboys temple repeatedly to drive his point in at the last two words. Pony felt his eyes water like they do when Darry would yell at him or when he’d get a whipping on his bottom in front of one of the boys for acting up when he was a little younger. 

He shook his head stiffly, Dallas’ grip keeping his head pretty still for the most part, and fruitlessly tried to get his lip to stop quivering. Maybe it was because the day was catching up to him or, in a weird way, Dallas was something familiar and safe to him in a new and scary environment- but he couldn’t stop himself from being so emotional. 

His brothers would always tell him that he was an emotional kid. He wasn’t made fun of for it, but they always tried to make sure he didn’t create bad habits or get into trouble because of it. It wasn’t always a bad thing, but the whole gang saw it as a problem with being the youngest. 

Dallas clasped his hand onto his shoulder and shook him lightly to let Pony know he was still waiting for an answer. He looked away, focusing his eyes on the tiled floor and pursed his lips. “Socs… they messed with me at the library…” Dallas looked confused. 

“And nobody stopped them?” Dally asked, bending down a little to be eye level with Pony. He rolled his eyes. 

“It was durin’ lunch,” He shrugged, then looked up at him, “Why ya here anyway?” Pony said, shouldering him. Dallas wasn’t really known as the scholastic type. 

Dallas smirked and ruffled his slicked-back hair, earning a smack to his hand and a shove as Pony tried to pull away, his little episode finally fading. “Thought I’d show my face, scare some teachers inta’ quitin’, check in on little John and you.” He poked Ponyboys chest.

“Good thing I did, cause look at you.” He said, standing up straight then and grabbing Ponys’ bicep to keep him from bouncing away like he looked he was fixing to do. He looked at the cut on the younger boy’s cheek, gently running his finger against the freshly scabbing wound. “Are you gon’ tell me who did this?” 

Dallas was scary most of the time but Pony forgets how friendly and protective he can be- especially with the gang or friends sisters and such. He almost reminded him of Darry. 

Pony shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly and breathed shallowly. “Look, I… Can you not tell my brothers about this?” He asked, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. He would die of embarrassment if he had to tell his family the whole truth of what happened, and knowing his brothers, they would get it out of him eventually. If he just had some time to think of a good lie, then he wouldn’t have to face the humiliation. “It really ain’t a big deal, Darry’ll chew me a new one and make it seem like it was all my fault…” 

Dallas looked at him like he was stupid, but he didn’t try and correct Ponys’ mindset about his brother- wasn’t his problem. The kid’s safety, though- that was his priority. He couldn’t have Socs coming after them like this or they’ll have the wrong idea about how dangerous hoods like Dallas could really be- and though he’s not scared to do time, he’d like to be on the outside of the system chasing his kicks, thank you. 

“Oh sure, and come home with a mauled up mug and hope fer the best?” Finally letting go of him and stepping back, he headed for the bathroom door, knowing that the period was about to end. “Don’t start hiding shit from yer family, kid. It never ends well.” He finished, then walked out before the bell rang to avoid the upcoming swarm of students looking for their next class. 

The light-haired greaser huffed, frustrated, then collected his things to follow after. Suddenly, as he’s shouldering his bag and thinking about a lie to cover what happened, he involuntarily thinks about Curly. Quickly digging into his pocket to look for the note he forgot about, his stomach does a small flop when he can’t find it. It must have fallen out during the whole ordeal. 

Swearing to himself just as the bell rings, he walks out into the bustling hallway with a bad attitude and little to no patience. 

Right as he made it by his locker to put his things away on the way to his next class, a hand slams right by his head, stopping him in his path. He looked up with wide eyes; surprised but not really scared. It was the soc from his PE class that he had punched in the nose. 

Quickly, he looked around to see if Dallas wasn’t far behind, but just his luck, he was out of sight. 

He tried to immediately turn around and walk the long way to class, blatantly trying to ignore him- hopefully, it would work, he’d had enough excitement for one day- but the slightly taller boy just grabbed his shoulder to stop him and pulled him back, slamming his back against the wall plastered with upcoming event papers and thumbtacks digging uncomfortably against him. 

“Relax.” He spat quietly, trying not to gain any attention from the other teenagers around them. Pony thought to yell but only for a moment- the Soc didn’t look threatening per se, exasperated being a better description of his twisted up features. “Look, Ponyboy, right?”

Pony looked left and right, not knowing if he should respond out of both self-preservation and spite. “Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot…” The boy said, holding his hand out for Pony to take. Unsure, he slowly greeted the extended hand but as soon as he did, he regretted it. 

He was wanked in closer as the Soc stepped forward to keep him against the wall, his face real close to Pony’s ear as his hand painfully squeezed his own. He used his knee to knock apart his legs, shoving his own forward in between. Pony sharply sucked in a breath, “Get off me-!” He said breathlessly, but then a fingered shushed him. 

“Relax. I’m not gonna do anything, not here, but just know…” he trailed, Pony wincing uncomfortably as the gauze over the other boy’s nose rubbed against his neck. He shifted his weight nervously, wanting him to just get on with whatever it was he wanted to say so Pony can shove him away and leave. “I will get you back for this little present you gave me, doll.” He finished, roughly rubbing his nose in to let him know what he was referencing. 

Pony rolled his eyes- how freaking ridiculous. 

“You were tryna scrap with me, man-“ Pony defended, ignoring the terrible pet name, just wanting to nip things in the bud. It sure felt good to hit without thinking, but he knew it wasn’t worth a feud that would most likely last all the way until graduation. 

He was shoved harder against the wall, then, just as suddenly as he was confronted, he was shoved aside as the taller boy stepped back. That was when he saw Randy Anderson, his hand on the other Socs’ shoulder. 

“Lay off him, Jenson. Don’t let Bob see shit like that.” Randy said in a cold tone, looking warningly at him. Jenson shoved him off, snarling. Pony looked between them like a thunderstruck idiot. Randy looked at him then, nodding for him to scram. He didn’t understand why he would help him after he had held him down and let Bob do what he did not even a couple of hours ago, but he wasn’t gonna stick around to ask. 

As he scurried away, he could hear Randy telling the Jenson boy off, both fuming though Randy was obviously the more dominant. Jenson was still yelling back at Randy even as the halls cleared but his glare never left Pony. 

Pony's head felt like it was spinning- he couldn’t wait to beat it out of there and see his brother after school. 

“Ya got a dent in yer head, sleaze? Next time you say some dumb shit like that Sylv’, you can expect a broken nose” Angela cussed, jostling around with her friends in the school parking lot as they chilled out by the lots’ metal fence. Her boyfriend stood stoically behind her, mostly ignoring her antics. His face lit up when he caught sight of his friend. Bryon left his girlfriends’ side to meet his buddy halfway. 

“You look ugly when you swear, Ang.” Mark smirked, clasping Byron's hand when it was extended to him and pulling him in for a side hug and back pat. Angela practically growled at him and flipped him off. 

“And you're just plain ugly, Jennings.” She chirped, brushing her hair over her shoulders and walking up to them, pulling on Bryon’s shirt sleeve. “Bryon, come on, walk me home.” 

Mark popped his head in her view, mocking her tone. “Sorry doll, me and B-man have plans, right man?” He said, elbowing his side. Angela gave him a pressed look.

“Really? Like what.” 

Bryon looked between his woman and his friend, rolling his eyes. “Let’s not do this again.” Mark ignored him in favor for his staredown with the tiger-like woman. 

“Heard around about some freshman way hotter than you, Ang, heard all the Socs’ talkin’ about it in the hallway. Gonna find her and get Bryon here a better chick- one that hasn’t been with every man alive.” Angela laughed and crossed her arms. Bryon shoved Mark, wishing he would stop antagonizing his girlfriend, even if he didn’t really care about her anymore. 

“Oh yeah? What’s her name?” She asked. Mark leaned his arm on Bryon’s shoulder and shrugged, starting to lose interest in fighting with the Shepherd sister. He picked his teeth obnoxiously and flicked stray food in her direction. 

Bryon just itched to head out in whatever car Mark stole that week and head over to Charlies’ pool house; their hang out. 

“I don’t know, something weird, like you.” He joked, then kicked his foot against the rubble. “Like, uh, Cow-boy? No, no, Horse-girl? heh- Wait… now that I think about it” Mark scratched his chin, thinking about some boys he heard that had weird names like that. It couldn’t be them, though. Maybe a sister he didn’t know about? The high-class kids had been talking up a whole bunch of game about seeing who was gonna score first. Something about how they ‘wanted to see what greaser tasted like’. “It did sound like one of them Curtis boys and their funky names they be havin’.”

Curly popped out of nowhere, standing protectively between Bryon and his sister. “What did you say?” He said through clenched teeth. Angela stared at him, then shoved him lightly and turned to stalk off. 

Sylvia bounced over to Angela’s side, glaring at the boys as she wrapped an arm around Angelas’ shoulders and rested her cheek against the other girls’. “Forget these bums, Angel, let’s glide over to Sandy's shop. I need a trim” She said through her chewing gum, Mark making a point in sarcastically calling her ‘classy’. Sandy and her mom worked at a beauty salon, and Angela really did need a trim too. 

“Yeah, hey, whatever.” She turns to Curly who was still verbally ignoring her. “See ya around clowns!” She looked Mark in the eyes as she made her way out of the lot. “I’m tellin’ Tim you ditched half the school day, loser!” she yelled and linked arms with her friends.

Curly didn’t look away from Mark who wasn’t scared, just for the record, but surprised to see the guy. It was rumored he killed a guy and was on the run, he asked Bryon to ask Angela, but he would always roll his eyes and brush him off.

Bryon nodded to Curly, being respectful- since he was screwing his sister and all- but that wasn’t where Curlys’ priorities were at the moment; he’d be overprotective of his sister later- when he makes sure what he thinks is going on isn’t. “What did you say?” Curly repeated, “Something about the Curtis boys? And dodgy rumors?”

All day he’s been hearing little things here and there, rumors about some freshmen that gave him chills. It felt like his gut was giving him a warning that something bad was happening. He’s guessing Mark has too. 

“What, you run with them Shepherd?” Mark asked, wanting to change the subject since it seemed to upset the hood. Bryon caught wind and knew how Mark could be, so he stepped in to diffuse any tiff his friend might have accidentally caused by pissing off his girls’ brother- but Mark beat him to it. “You hear? About some easy-lay broad? She might be a Curtis from what I'm hearing, though ain’t ever hear about no sister-”

Curly punched him quicker than he could smarten up enough to dodge it and sent him flying. Mark picked his battles and stayed on the floor for a second before holding out his hand, Bryon getting him to his feet by pulling him up. Maybe that was who Curly was going steady with? It wasn’t new for east side kids to be rude to girls, but you don’t get mouthy about someone's woman and not expect a fight out of it. 

Bryon looked like he wanted to have it out with Curly, who looked back at him, his eyes daring him to do something about it. “Maybe you should just keep yer trap shut, Jennings.”

The two middle-class boys looked at each other, trying to decide if they were gonna bite their tongue or turn this into a feud. Bryon shoved Mark, deciding for them. “No need to get rough around the edges, man. Maybe you should get the facts together before you start laying hands.” Mark looked like he wanted to back him up and say something too, but Bryon just quickly covered his mouth with both hands, Mark trying to pull his hands away since it hurt his throbbing nose, and continued to move him along. 

Curly looked at them till they got in their car with a scowl on his face, bitter-tongued. He shouldn't have roughhoused like he did, he was trying to be a different person, trying to be good- but trouble always seemed to find him. Something wasn’t right, something about the floating gossip and what happened in the library hinted to huge warning signs. Ponyboy was in trouble. 

It was worth the month-long Saturday school detentions- Curly would fight off anyone that tried to hurt his friends, especially Pony. He needed to make sure that Ponyboy was safe. 

Curly also needed to stop being scared and talk to the kid. He fiddled with the note he wrote Ponyboy that had dropped during the fight in the library; he didn’t have the courage to hand it to the youngest Curtis himself earlier that morning- and he doubts he read it since he didn’t freak out or seem any different when he saw him. Maybe that was a sign. 

Steeling himself, he clenched his fist and turned off the lot to finish some business with his brother’s gang that he couldn’t finish that morning. On the way, he throws away the note, trying not to think too much about it. Things were gonna be better this way. 

Why couldn’t he just man up?

Steve and Soda pulled up at the Dingo in Steve’s hopped up ride about the same time Two-Bits truck came rattling into the parking lot with Johnny and Ponyboy bouncing about in the bed, one of Two-Bits’ friends in the front. 

That was always their tradition, way back when Soda and Darry were still in high school and Two-Bit was in the grade he was supposed to be in. They always went to the Dingo on their first day of school, just them. 

Ponyboy always complained about never getting to go, their mom getting him from elementary school and taking him out for ice cream instead. Now that he made it, Soda wanted to give him some semblance of belonging and familiarity in their unpredictable world. 

Darry had said that was the least of his worries when they asked him to come with on his lunch break, telling them they should focus on financially providing for their little brother by not skipping work instead- but what does Darry know anyway? Their growing boy needs more than just food on the table to become a nice young man. 

Soda laughed when he saw them and jumped out of his best friend’s ride, ignoring Steve yelling at him when he accidentally slammed his door. Two-Bit’s buddy smoothly said his goodbyes, thanking the broad-shouldered greaser for the lift and walking away towards some other buddies. 

“Didn’t have room for the kids on yer laps, did ya?” He laughed then walked up to Pony as he jumped out of the truck bed with Johnny's help. The handsome greaser stopped in his tracks, smile faltering when he saw Pony’s face. He seemed peeved about the comment more than actually having to be in the back. 

Pony's nose scrunched up as he turned from his brother, uselessly trying time hide the cut, “Stop callin’ me a kid, Pepsi.” Soda closed the space between them and inspected Ponys’ cut with a hurt expression. 

The middle brother looked questioningly at Two-Bit and Johnny, trying not to seem accusing. They were supposed to keep an eye on him- he just hopes it was an accident, but it surely didn’t look like one. Cupping his younger brother’s cheek, he inspected his face, sad when he wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Baby, what happened?” He asked, soothing down the hair on the back of his neck, ignoring when Pony tried to pull away and just held onto him tighter. 

Two-Bit smacked his hand down on Pony’s shoulders, Johnny trying to distract Steve- who seemed irritated- with mindless conversation. “Don’t bother, kid refuses to say what really happened-”

“I told you! I fell on the rubble by the west wing! Stop jostling me!” Pony interjected, shoving Two-Bit off of him. The red-headed greaser couldn’t help how his cheeks heated slightly when the younger boy pouted at him with big pink lips. Soda looked between them. 

“What does that- ya know what, forget it,” Two-Bit said and walked off towards the entrance of the diner, seeing some more of his buddies on the way in and laughing around with them though he seemed a little less laid back like his usual self. He was agitated about Pony. 

There was something he wasn’t telling him and it bothered him a great deal. It’s making him even more mad that lately, he can’t seem to get the small greaser off his mind; worrying about him, wanting to always check up on him just to see how he’s doing. It felt kind of weird, he was freshly eighteen, and Pony was barely fourteen- that had to mean it was weird and probably illegal. He shook his head. When did he start to care about shit being legal?

Soda watched as he left then turned back to Ponyboy. “What happened, honey?” The younger brother hated it when he talked to him like a kid, but he knew it was more for his brother than for him, so he didn’t say anything. He huffed then broke away, walking towards the entrance too and smacking Two-Bits shoulder on his way, Johnny following. 

“I’m on cloud nine, Soda, really.” He said and made his way in with the two other boys, Two-Bit saying one last joke and leaving the boys leaning on their cars laughing. Steve spit to his side, smacking his lips and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, kids definitely hiding something,” Steve chirped, cocking his hip. Soda looked at him like he was unbelievable, scoffing and slumping his posture slightly. 

He shook his head, “Gee- thanks Stevie, I didn’t realize.” He said with a dry laugh. Kicking the dirt, he pushed himself forward and chased after his brother. Steve threw his hands up and quickly chased after, not wanting to be left behind. 

“Wait, Soda- what did I say?”

They all pigged out on a mountain of burgers and fries. The two younger greasers slurping down their milkshakes while the three older boys were going through dozens of coke bottles like it was nothing. 

At first, it passed by awkwardly with Pony’s attitude and Two-Bits and Steve’s stand-off mood, but eventually, they all relaxed into each other and quickly fell into their routine- horsing around and messing with each other. Pony’s shoulders eased up and he wasn't so tense anymore, finally forgetting all about his weird day. 

Randy still lingered on his mind, though, and it made him anxious. He was glad he didn’t press the issue when he had saved him, but a curious part of him wished he had. And Jenson, Pony hates that he knows his name now, makes it all feel more personal. Maybe whatever Randy said to him would get him off Ponys’ back, but he knew that was just his wishful thinking. 

Pony leaned on the table as he dove himself into their jokes, the flesh of the small of his back exposed as his sweatshirt hiked up with his shoulders, the boy laughing carelessly at Sodas and Steve’s antics. 

Two-Bit couldn’t stop himself from staring at that small part of him, stopping himself from reaching out and brushing his hand against the smooth skin. Usually, he would, when a girl accidentally shows a peek of skin, and find a clever way to cop a feel and make a joke of it- resulting in a slap to his face and a fuming young lady. He didn’t know if it was in the same spirit, but Two-Bit felt more curious than anything else. Did his skin really feel as smooth as it looked? 

The Mathews boy had to help change his little sister’s diapers and take care of her here and there when his mom couldn’t find anyone to watch her back in the day, and her skin had been so soft as he would tickle her and throw her in the air. As she got a little older, now in the sixth grade, her skin got tighter, drier- destined for the normal amount of pre-teen blemishes. 

He wonders why Pony looked more radiant than she does, a girl has a way of having a radiance to them when they’re related to you or you happen to care an awful lot about them. 

No one really ever looks at another boy like that- even men’s own sons. There’s just something different about Pony; how his eyes look like they're sparkling as he reads his books or intently watches a movie, or lip twitches when anyone manages to catch him deep in thought, and when he leans in and smiles like a child without a care when something makes him laugh like he was right then. 

The middle Curtis sits up straight, finally catching his breath from practically laughing a lung out. Steve smacks his best friends back, laughing himself and failing to calm down. “Alright, alright, Two-Bit, you got any thin ones left?” Soda asked, about to get up and get his third coke. The red-head nodded as he stuffed his face and dug into his pocket to flip him a dime. 

Pony tried catching it and missed, Soda smacking his hand away then jokingly rubbing it like a doting mother until Pony shoved him back. “Thanks, buddy!” He said and stood by the table, jutting his hips on with his hands on his waist trying to crack his back after having sat for so long. 

Pony shot up too, bouncing on his feet- he had a hard time staying still for too long just like Soda. 

“I can get it!” He said, already trying to grab the change from his brother's hand. He held it over his head laughing as Pony tried to climb him to grab the coins, then tapped Ponys’ cheek approvingly after enough whining and sat back down, plopping the change onto his extended hand. 

“Alright Pone, shit, don’t get too excited.” Soda chuckled. Pony flares his nostrils at his brother, feigning anger, bouncing away. He went up to the cooler by the register and pulled one out, placing it on the counter and waiting for one of the workers to have a second to cash him out. An older lady whipped her hands on her apron, Pony handing her two dimes and a nickel, saying a quick thank you as he bounced back towards their corner table. 

The movement of a tussle outside caught his eye, surprised to see Brandy and some high class looking girl shoving around with one of the same guys Two-Bit had been talking to a moment before. He looked quickly to his brother and friends, thankfully all of them lost in conversation.

Handing the coke to a passing waitress and quickly told her where his table was, the young boy bounding outside through the side door to poke his head in some good old trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment and review! Any and all feedback is welcome :)


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